Shovel of Smash
by SmallTownGamer
Summary: AU where Shield Knight dies at the end of Shovel of Hope. Devastated, Shovel Knight decides that he must leave the land he spent so much time adventuring in to seek a new purpose.


_**Hey guys long time no upload. The addition of Shovel Knight as an Assist Trophy was amazing. I have always been a really big fan of Shovel Knight since it came out. Now that he literally appears in what seems like most games now in some shape or form, it gives so many opportunities to have my favorite video game character in a fic!**_

_**Granted, it is FanFiction. So anything is possible.  
**_

* * *

The starry night sky dominated the view from the chilly bows of the Stranded Ship. When he had passed through here before, a stalwart champion determined to end the reign of the Enchantress, he had noted in the back of his mind how breathtaking the view was. Rough mountains, almost like they had been shore asunder bit into the low hanging clouds that seemed to always be present around the peaks. The traveler heaved a sigh, a cold pit in his heart preventing him from fully enjoying what was in front of him. This, naturally not being the view as much as the three yellow sacks of gold and jewels he dug up.

Shovel Knight was anything but your average treasure hunter. The blue clad treasure hunter's appearance could be described as almost comical. He was short and stubby, built not unlike a dwarf from this novels Shield Knight would read to him when they were children. His weapon of choice, which lead to his title, was a shovel. The stoic knight was often laughed at was his 'gardening tool' was revealed.

Shovel Knight would ignore the barbed words more often than not. It was against his Code of Shovelry to hurt innocents, no matter how much jeering in his direction they did. The only ones who ever took him seriously were the ones who knew who he was and what he had done. Even those few still laughed outright in their first meeting. Every single one except…

Gods his heart hurt…

His gaze finally left the gold to stare across the land that he had traveled. Fighting horn and shovel through the Order of No Quarter to get to her. Not that it mattered in the end. It was also the land he traveled before with his… partner. Once lands he would look upon with wonder and a budding sense of excitement now reminded him of the sudden loss of the one person that mattered most to him.

"I… never want to see this place again."

The voice was scratchy and broken, the utterance surprising the short knight himself. But he meant it. Each and every word of it. There was nothing left for him here.

With a determination that he had not felt since the beginning of his last adventure the Shovel Knight place his sacks of gold in his Hammer Space pocket and began to make his way back down to the base of the ship. The chilly air bypassing the protection of his helmet as it blew its gale into his face, making the wet trails feel almost as cold as his heart felt.

He really needed to go but one last stop needed to be made.

The trip down the icy path was much easier than the trip up it had been. The wolves had learned not to mess with him and Polar Knight's goons wouldn't even look sideways at him since he shoveled their boss. The crunch of his boots in the snow seemed almost deafening in the silent snowy ship.

"So you decide to leave then."

The deep bass voice of the Trouple King rumbled in thought. The two chalices the blue burrower held, now filled with the Ichor of the possibly divine trout and apple hybrid. The King had been… off putting during his first visit. As the adventurer ventured into the Grotto more and more to refill on the precious ichor, he began to grow an appreciation for the troupple's advice and mannerisms as much as any healing, invincibility, or treasure magnetizing liquid.

"I feel that… there is nothing left for me here anymore. The Enchantress is gone, with her fall the Order of No Quarter has disbanded. The lands are safe and there is no reason for me to stay."

"I understand, acolyte." The bulbous eyes closed, "Remember thou still be under my protection. Even in distant lands thy might cross… Use this to call for aid." With a bounding splash two smaller troupples threw forward a red object that Shovel Knight caught on instinct.

An ornate redwood flute, cut in the shape of a troupple. However it looked… magical. Exuding an aura not unlike some of the relics he had picked up on his journey.

Shovel Knight bowed deeply, his helmet almost falling off before he hastily caught it with one hand.

"You are far too kind…"

The troupple gave the closest thing it could to a snort. Turning around slowly, the Troupple King began to slowly make his way back into the heart of his domain, descending until only his crown and stem were visible, then disappearing beneath the still waters. Inky ripples being the only sign the massive possible divine had been present.

Leaving the knight all alone in the grotto.

Shovel Knight hummed to himself, unsure of where to go now. The hollow feeling in his chest directing him anywhere but the land he found himself in. Delicately placing the precious flute in his Pouch of Holding. The pouch being its own magical item capable of holding any items, no matter the size or weight.

South. South sounded good.

But just as the knight turned to leave, he barely noticed a barely audible humming followed by a steadily increasing feeling of magic flowing around him. The blue burrower braced himself, bringing the Shovel Blade around to bare. The water began to ripple and a strange wind began to play with the leaves in the trees, knocking more than a few loose.

Then a portal opened. A small one, big enough for two people walking side by side could pass through with no issue. While others might have been shocked by the appearance for the knight it immediately brought out nostalgia. It looked similar to the portal that he took to go to the land of Aether. A land with the rivals of each primary country vying against a dark power. He helped them as much as he could, but since he was still on his quest he could not stay long. Wishing farewell to his friends and venturing back into his own land.

This portal was clearly not to Aether, nor to the numerous other lands he had visited.

Aether was a land of animals that stood up like humans. Very much so like his own, the difference being that there were humans. So the fact that a reserved looking woman with long green hair walked through with another short dark haired man with gloves on…

Wait those were boxing gloves, Shovel Knight had seen them at some of the villages he had passed through. They both gave off an air of confidence as they seemed to size up the small knight.

"Well, er, fine day to you, ma'am and sir. A rather… odd way of traveling you have there."

The boxer, yes that's what they were called, raised a bushy eyebrow. He was about the same height as the Shovel of Hope. A cut figure and bulging muscles showed that the man took his profession seriously and likely was good at it. His garments, a tight black… shirt? It was too form hugging to be a tunic, not to mention the baggy green half-pants he wore as well. The relaxed confidence would have been missed by someone less experienced, however the adventurer noticed that he had his left foot a smidgen ahead of his right, knees slightly bent, and legs apart.

Clearly the stance of someone that didn't want to fight, but was prepared for it.

"Excuse me, kind sir, are perchance the Shovel Knight?"

The woman spoke, her green eyes staring at him in sort of skeptical awe. Typical and Expected. Taking the girl in, her choice of attire was much more normal in his mind. A blue eastern dress with a slit on the side to promote fee movement. Her hair the same color as her eyes tied in a long ponytail that hung down to the small of her back. On her hip a sword likely of eastern style as well judging from the curved blade. Her stance mirrored the intent of her partner.

It gave the stoic warrior a flash of the Liquid Samurai and of…

He tilted his head up, best not to think about those things. Lowering his Shovel, he adopted a similar stance to the pair. No need to fight if there was no need.

"Yes that would be me. May I be of assistance?

The woman gave a small smile and bowed. The man giving a nod. "Myself and Mac are here with a proposition for you on behalf of the Master Hand." The the swordswoman held out a letter. Shovel Knight took the letter with his free hand, and keeping one eye on the pair he removed a gauntlet revealing a hand covered in a tight black glove. The seal on it was pressed in red wax still warm, a strange circle cut into fours unevenly stared back at him. Stabbing his shovel into the ground, the shovel wielder pulled it off delicately and pulled the neatly folded letter out.

_Shovel Knight,_

_Words of your exploits have interested me greatly. Your crusade in besting the Order of No Quarter and The Enchantress left my brother and I in a deep admiration for your deeds, and wracked with grief for your loss. We as the Creators of our Universe found ourselves enamored with many stories not unlike your own. With little to decide which hero was stronger then another, we decided to host a fighting tournament in order for us to tell. Thus, we have decide to afford you an invitation to use your skills in battle at the Smash Manor. While our Roster is, regrettably, filled. We would like to converse with you about a position as an Assist Trophy._

_Well Wishes,_

_Master and Crazy Hand_

At some point while reading, he realized that he had crushed the beautiful envelope in his other hand. A glance up to the pair in front of his let him know that the other two had not missed this. The woman had a look of mild panic while Mac had a frown.

"I, er, apologize if the letter upset you, sir knight…"

The woman began her hands motioning in dismissal, to which her friend grunted in acknowledgement as well. Shovel Knight shook his head, armor clinking lightly.

"I should apologize for making you uncomfortable. The letter has reminded me of some… rather fresh wounds." The knight picked up his shovel, his free hand placing the letter in his pouch. "I would be interested in hearing out this Master Hand. I trust you can lead me to him Miss...?"

It could possibly be a trap sure, but neither of the two strangers seemed to be acting of malicious intent. He wanted to leave the area anyways, and it wasn't like he hadn't ran head first into strange portals to other worlds before… _she_ likely would have wanted to go and drag him along with her. The green haired messenger widened her eyes and gave a genuine smile.

"Ah yes... how rude. I'm Lyn of the Lorca tribe, I hail from the land of Elibe."

"So are all of these fighters in the tournament of other worlds?"

It was intriguing, and while he had already decided, it reaffirmed his decision even more.

So he walked with them through the portal. It wasn't a straight shot like the other portal had been, more so like a tunnel of silver and gold light. The tribeswoman seemed to relax as they walked speaking to her companion. She had tried to include Shovel Knight, but the blue burrower had only elected for one word responses, to far lost in his own thoughts to be interested in their conversation.

Lyn seemed to understand, and continued on her conversation with Mac while politely letting the knight think. The more he thought about _her_ then the more his chest hurt, maybe this Master Hand's tournament could help him push this to the back of his mind

Hopefully anyways…

* * *

"So Shovel Knight will you take you position as an Assist Trophy? As you requested, gold can be arranged as well as permission to explore any ruins and keep any treasures that you find."

The blue burrower made a motion that would remind some of grasping their chin in thought. He hadn't expected the large floating gloved hand to be some willing to agree to his terms. It wasn't in his nature to lead into it, as he believed that honesty was the best policy. So he laid out for the hand what he would require for his services, and was promptly told that his terms were acceptable.

Naturally, he wouldn't agree to his services unless he had heard what exactly he would be doing. He had an idea, after being told about the nature of the tournament it was incredibly similar to the fights in Aether.

"So I would be an… Assist Trophy?"

The hand nodded, or what Shovel Knight liked to imagine he was nodding was more accurate. The hand snapped his fingers and some sort of glass screen appeared. In his numerous adventures in his world and out, he believed that it was called a TV.

With small crack the TV alighted with the fury of battle. A large fearsome purple dragon was dragging what appeared to be a brown haired angel across the deck of wooden ship. The Dragon threw the angel of stage, making the smaller fighter tumble before he righted himself and began to make his way back to the ship. Blowing a few fireballs, the dragon retreated to grab what appeared to be white cylinder that rounded at the top and had a gold base at the bottom.

"An Assist Trophy is, simply, another fighter that is summoned to help whichever main fighter takes the time to open the case."

Shovel Knight observed curiously as the purple lizard held the cylinder over his head. The item popped suddenly, and the green haired woman that he had greeted him in his world appeared on the ship. Crouching down in a stance, the warrior closed her eyes in focus.

"In the case of Lyn, she will deliver a strong attack before leaving the fight."

The stalwart adventurer eyed the screen, and sure enough right when the smaller fighter pulled himself back on stage, Lyn opened her eyes and moved with more speed the he expected. With a wail of anguish, the unfortunate fighter was sent off sailing away, hitting the 'blastzone' and losing his final stock.

Master Hand snapped his fingers again and the TV disappeared. "You would be filling a similar role to Lyn in aiding fighters." The hand turned to face him, well as much as he could. A small part of the blue burrower was starting to be entertained by imagining what the head of the tournament's facial expression would look like. His body language, er, hand language didn't exude any deception. His… partner would have taken it in a heartbeat, likely dragging him along with her. The decision was rather obvious he in retrospect.

"I accept these terms."


End file.
